The Visit
by Phantasmagor1a
Summary: Bellatrix has come back home to her sister Narcissa. Blackcest. Femmeslash.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't having much luck coming up with an excuse to tell Rodolphus. I knew I was going to explain my absence to him. The reason as to why I didn't come back to him after my escape was perfectly noble, but he wouldn't understand that. I turned a corner and kept walking, ankle deep in snow. Daylight would have been a better option for traveling, but I didn't have that option. I couldn't be seen, or I'd be sent to Azkaban in a moment. They'd have forced the truth out of me and taken my husband from his hiding place as well.

I left because of my sister, Narcissa Malfoy. I couldn't love Narcissa. No, I was wrong. I had all the right as her sister to love her, but being in love with her was a different matter altogether. The thought of being in love with my sister had taken me all my will to stomach but I still couldn't come to terms with it. All these thoughts flowed through my head as I walked down Knockturn Alley. It was dark, cold, and visibility was poor so I couldn't see further than a few feet around me. But it was enough, and the dark prevented me from being seen and identified by a civilian, unless of course, that civilian was Lucius Malfoy.

"Hello Bellatrix," he said, gliding down the steps, the effect intensified by the swishing of his long black cloak. I hugged mine closer around myself to fight the bitter cold.

"Hello Malfoy," I growled. He laughed softly, stopping right in front of me. Lucius was much taller than either me or Narcissa, and I had to look up to look him in the eyes. His eyes were a dull grey.

"I thought we were on a first-name basis, Bella?" he replied softly. I wanted him to go away. It was too much of a humiliation to stand in front of the man whose wife I had slept with, especially since his wife was my blood sister. That was the first time Narcissa and I had been together alone after i'd known about her feelings towards me, and we were drinking. The stronger our whiskey breath got, so did her desire for me, and the more she wanted me the less I could resist her.

That was how Lucius had found us. Narcissa's husband, my brother-in-law, had flung open the bedroom doors while we were in bed together. Blind with rage, he had thrown me out of the manor and told me never to come back. Narcissa had screamed at him. That was all I remembered before I felt one of my fingers being forced onto a portkey, and I was sent back to my house, back to Rodolphus. He was equally as angry, and equally as disappointed. He couldn't face me and I, him. So I fled, and went back to the one man who hadn't cared about anything I'd done as long as I served him well.

I worked on becoming the Dark Lord's favorite. I morbidly worshipped him until he disappeared, and went out of power for a reason that no one knew. The Ministry of Magic then had all the power to capture as many Death Eaters as they could, and capture they did. They found me two days after the Dark Lord's fall. Locked in a cell in the depths of Azkaban, I was tortured so that I would admit the whereabouts of my husband. I never did. The authorities soon gave up. I was captured, but I did all I could to make sure my husband was free, and he hated me less for that.

At that same time, Narcissa and Lucius had a child. Draco Malfoy. Narcissa sent me a letter, which arrived at my cell one rainy morning, detailing his birth and putting me as his guardian in case anything should ever happen to her and Lucius. I sent that letter back along with another one telling her I couldn't do the job she had entrusted me to. I escaped shortly after, still unable to bear facing Rodophus. Having nowhere to go, I fled to a distant corner of France and stayed there in hiding for ages, but now I was back, and I was weak.

"Leave me, Lucius. I don't want to see you,' I said, trying to push past him but he stood his ground, "I said leave me."

"Narcissa wants to see you," he said. I stopped.

"What?"

"Narcissa sent me. She asked me to find you and bring you to her."

I could tell that it took every bit of his strength to tell me that. I was speechless. Lucius Malfoy turned and walked away, his black cloak billowing in the wind. I knew was supposed to follow and I did. We walked in silence. Walking was the only way we could ensure that we wouldn't use any magic that could be detected. As Malfoy Manor came into sight he stopped and told me to carry on without him. I protested, saying that I wouldn't enter the manor by myself. He ignored me and walked away, leaving me to go the rest of the way.

As I pushed open the great oak doors, the cold air from outside rushed into the manor, along with several flakes of snow. I stared blankly at the place I used to visit ever so often. Things were different that time, but following that, the plot of our lives had turned into spiderwebs. It became complicated, dreadfully easy to get lost in. I hoped for for a visit that would be less complex as I looked at the hallway I used to walk down, and the stairs that I would ascend and descend. I was deep in thought and didn't notice one of the servants hurrying forward to shut the door.

"Mistress Bellatrix, it is an honor to see you again," she said, bowing, "May I take your coat?"

I nodded, letting the article of clothing slide off my shoulders.

"Where is Narcissa?" I asked.

"Mistress Narcissa is in her room, resting," the old servant lady replied. I didn't believe Narcissa was resting. She wouldn't send for me and then decide to take a nap. I knew the way to her room and walked towards it, leaving the confused servant lady in my wake. I hiked up my dress slightly and went up three flights of stairs, then turned left and opened the first door I could see. It was dark in the room. I muttered _lumos _so my wand lit up. Narcissa was on her bed, resting.

"You sent for me?" I asked haughtily. There was no answer. I walked towards Narcissa's bed, holding my wand up. As I neared I saw how much paler and thinner she'd become. Narcissa opened her eyes and looked at me. I almost fell back in fear.

"Bella?" she asked, her voice lifeless. Her lips were pale, almost white like the rest of her face. I cringed at how sick she looked. She gave a small laugh.

"Bella, are you afraid of me?" she asked again, lifting one of her hands up for me to hold. I had nothing to say. I put my wand back into my pocket and held her hand, bending over her to kiss her on the forehead.

"What in hell happened to you?" I asked, pulling back and sitting down beside her on the edge of her bed. She took a deep breath.

"Nothing."

"Nothing doesn't turn you into, this," I told her, my voice breaking with the effort to keep myself from crying.

"I haven't turned into anything, Bella. I'm still here," Nacissa said to me. I stared into her striking blue eyes and the same stare that I got back told me that she was still the Narcissa I'd always loved, although it was entirely obvious she was withering away. I realised how ice-cold her hand was, but decided not to press on the matter about her health. She would tell me when she saw fit to.

"Mother?" It was Draco. I turned to see the youngest of the Malfoy family at the doorway, a mixture of surprise and confusion on his face.

"Say hello to your aunt, Draco," Narcissa told him. Little Draco walked forward to the both of us, tall and upright, just like his father. I stood up, still keeping Narcissa's hand in one of mine, just as he embraced me. I patted his head slowly with my other hand. I couldn't believe he'd grown so much in 7 years.

"Aunt Bella with be staying with us for a few days, Draco," Narcissa said. I turned sharply to look at her. Her eyes had a pleading look to them and I relented. My husband could wait, but my sister couldn't.

"Will you be kind enough to show me to my room, Draco?" I asked him. He nodded and took my hand, leading me out of the room. My other hand, the one I used to hold Narcissa's, slid slowly out of her grasp. I looked back at her one more time before Draco and I turned a corner.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible pain in my head and my blankets on the floor, telling me I'd been tossing and turning all night. I sat up in bed to retrieve the silk sheets from the floor and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. I stood up and walked to the window clumsily, opening it to feel some of the cool air from outside. The icy wind passed right through the thin nightgown I was wearing, making me shiver. Most of my things had been brought to Malfoy Manor so I went to the wardrobe and hunted for a robe to wear. What was left of my decency told me it was hardly proper to loiter around in a Manor in the dead of night, wearing nothing but a thin nightdress. Narcissa's room wasn't far from mine and I doubted that Lucius was back, so I put one on and made my way there.

When Narcissa was awake her face was wrinkled, aged, sad, and it made her look twenty years older than she was. She was asleep when I entered and her face was none of that. She still looked exactly as she did before our sisterly relationship lost it's innocence. Peaceful, beautiful, she reminded me of our mother. But this was my Narcissa, the one woman I was able to trust my entire life. I'd give anything for her. I'd mutter "Avada Kedavra" with my wand pointed at myself if that was what made her happy.

But Narcissa would never ask for anything of that sort. She cared too much for me. I looked around the room she hadn't left since I'd arrived. Her bedside tabletop was covered in unmarked vials, obviously medicine, reminding me that I still didn't know what her malady was. She had refused to tell me but I know who couldn't refuse if I asked. I stood up from the chair I'd been sitting in at her bedside and went out of her room, to the servant's quarters. There I looked for the old servant lady who'd taken my coat when I first arrived. She was easy to find. Each of the servants had a room to themselves and their names were printed on a nameplate on their doors. I only had to search for a Mrs. Patterson.

I knocked twice on the door with the nameplate I wanted to see and was answered by the little old lady I was looking for. She was shocked to see me, and who wouldn't be? I was a wanted Death Eater, an official dagger in society's delicate pincushion, and I was knocking on her door in the middle of the night.

"Mistress Bellatrix," she said, giving me a polite bow and opening the door further, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I need to enquire about my sister. I want to know," I mumbled, stumbling with my speech, something I rarely did, "I want to know, what has happened to her." I ended the sentence softly. My demeanor always took a turn for the better whenever I spoke about my sister, something I hated. She made me a better person and I wished she wouldn't. The elderly Mrs. Patterson stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her.

"Mistress Narcissa was good friends with a witch doctor for a very long time. The both of them were fascinated with deadly illnesses and one day the witch doctor and her were dabbling with the deadliest of them all. They were dabbling with the Black Death. Mistress Bellatrix, I would have stopped her if I could, but servants must never advise their masters-" she tried to explain but I put a hand up to stop her.

"Narcissa is infected with the Black Death?" I asked.

"Yes, Mistress Bellatrix," she replied.

"How did that come to be?"

"The witch doctor and Mistress Narcissa were practicing spells to cure the disease, but Narcissa went too close to one of the specimens. The witch doctor tried everything to cure her, even Muggle medicine, but nothing made her better and the only thing we could do was to lesson her pain," Mrs. Patterson told me. I shut my eyes at the word "Pain", unable to bear the thought of my sister being in pain. I remembered something from my childhood at that moment. When Narcissa and I were children, and she scraped her knees or elbows while we were playing in that garden, I would cry as well. I only cried when I believed no one was watching me and I cried because she was hurt and I didn't want her to be. One day she found me like that and I told her I was crying because I had lost something. She didn't believe me, but she didn't question me further. Nothing had changed. Her pain was still mine as well, and I wanted nothing more than to kill the fool that had made her ill.

"And the witch doctor?" I asked, my anger making me hands tremble.

"Alive and well, Mistress Bellatrix. He resides in knockturn alley," she hastily replied, becoming afraid. I controlled myself. This little old lady hadn't done a thing to me. I folded my arms under my chest to prevent my hands from shaking.

"Thank you Mrs. Patterson. I will leave now."

"Always at your service, Mistress Bellatrix," Mrs. Patterson said, giving another bow, then opening the door to her room and disappearing behind it. I slowly made my way out of the servant's quarters and back to my room. I stared at the oak furniture, the window, the four-poster bed and the sheets I'd slept on. I didn't want any of it. All I wanted was for Narcissa to get better. I wanted to trade places with her. I'd be the sick one, and she could have my life. I'd smile while being diseased if it meant she was alive and healthy.

The robe I was wearing was dutifully put back into it's place in the wardrobe and I put on my traveling clothes. I wrote a note with my wand and put it under one of Narcissa's hands, making sure not to wake her up, before leaving Malfoy Manor on foot, my black cloak billowing in the heavy wind on that chilly winter morning.


	3. Chapter 3

I had managed to get to Knockturn Alley by mid-afternoon. It was still freezing cold, and no one had bothered to guess the identity of a lone dark figure finding its way. The cloak I was wearing aided me in my disguise as I searched for some sign of a witch doctor. I couldn't find any. The closest I came to finding one was when I ran into an old woman who specialized in unusual cures. I chose to avoid her approaches, and wasn't persuaded at all when she began to recite the twenty useful attributes of a wriggling rabbit's head out loud. I pushed past her and continued on my way. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything since my dinner the night before, and I was fully certain that if were to do so, my stomach would not able to handle it. I had to finish whar I came here to do and wouldn't set foot in Malfoy Manor unless I was absolutely certain that the witch doctor was dead. I would only be satisfied if my sister's misery had been avenged. That gave me enough energy to press on, and pressing on paid off very well.

I found a small alley that I hadn't searched before. It was almost impossible to notice, one because of the darkness and two, because it had barely enough space for one person to move through. But my years in hiding had made me scrawny as hell, and I got to the other side of it with little effort. There was a lone shop on the other side and the wooden sign hanging on the door said "Witch Doctor". It felt as if I'd been handed my victim on a silver platter, and I was glad. I crept to a window and peered into the shop, finding a short, stumpy man dressed in nothing but a loincloth. I was ready and he was unaware. It was perfect.

The old Bellatrix loved to play with her food. I would have barged in, set the Cruciatus Curse on him for as long as I pleased, and then killed him. The fact that he'd done the unthinkable to my sister, would have given me even more reason to do so. But I had no time for games now. I wanted to finish him. I pointed my wand at him through a crack in the window and whispered "Avada Kedavra". A familiar, blinding green flash of light I'd seen countless times before, and he lay on the floor, unmistakably dead. I'd killed many people before and he was exactly like all the other vermin. I straightened up, feeling a sense of quiet satisfaction entering my bloodstream. It wasn't a dramatic murder as I would have liked for it to have been, but it was a murder nonetheless and I was happy to have done it. Someone would come into the shop soon and find him. If they were stupid enough, they would pass his death off as a mere consequence of his incessant dabbling in illnesses. Thankful that the majority of Knockturn Alley was stupid, I was free to leave, and so I did.

I began to trudge through the snow once again, back to Malfoy Manor, taking the same route I'd taken with Lucius. But he'd been with me on that journey and I was undertaking this one alone. The sound of my boots crushing show underneath me was soothing. It was repetitive, and I coveted repetition. The past ten or so years of my life had been filled with twists and turns: the storm that brewed between Narcissa and I, the fall of the dark lord, my separation from Rodolphus, Draco's birth. I let my mind wander as I continued walking until one of my boots hit something that wasn't snow. I stepped back and stared at the spot on the ground, noticing what seemed like fine gold threads poking out of the white mass. I bent over and pulled on one of them. It seemed to be attached to something. I yanked it off whatever it was attached to with great ease. It was a strand of human hair so fine, light, and long that I could only think of one person with such hair.

I knelt down and began to dig with my hands. The cold felt like needles pricking every inch of my skin but the pain became more bearable as my fingers grew numb. I uncovered more of Lucius Malfoy's corpse with each handful of snow I displaced. I stared at his frostbitten face. The once warm, liquid blood in his body was now solid ice. His eyes were closed. In fact, he could have been sleeping. I fell backwards, not taking my eyes off my dead brother-in-law.

"Lucius..." I called out softly, overcome by fear and grief, almost as if it would bring him back. I thought of an excuse. Perhaps he was just sleeping. He must have been tired after walking such a long way. I began to feel slightly relieved.

"Lucius, wake up, it's time to go home," I said, leaning forward and shaking him. He didn't stir. I began to panic.

"Narcissa's at home waiting for you, and so's Draco. If you don't wake up now we all can't go out for hot chocolate, and Draco was looking forward to that, wasn't he?" I cried out, patting his cheek frantically, "You don't want to disappoint Draco..."

But Lucius didn't wake up, and the truth hit me like a slap on the face. He was dead. I felt something warm on my cheek and touched a finger to it. It was a tear, I was crying. I had never told Lucius I loved him, or treated him like a brother. He was just the man my sister had married, nothing more. I thought of the last time I'd spoken to him. He had told me to go up to the manor alone. He obviously didn't want to be near me. When that realization came to me my sorrow and panic immediately morphed into intense anger. I began to bury him again, returning the snow I'd dug out back to where it was before.

I buried him fully, then picked myself up and continued on my way. Utterly stupid thoughts such as "It's his own fault he's dead", and "He doesn't want to be around me, so I shall not honor him with my presence" began to flood my mind. But beneath all those thoughts another one lay like a sleeping dragon.

"What would Narcissa say?"


	4. Chapter 4

A servant lady brought me the blanket I'd ask for a few minutes ago. It was soft, the perfect protection from the bitter cold that covered even the inside of the house. I wrapped it around me and picked up my copy of Spells to Take You to Hell. I was reading it by the fireplace when I caught the swishing of a black cloak at the corner of my eye. Instinctively, I looked back. It was Severus Snape. I felt myself smiling slightly, remembering the short stay I'd had at his house before I met Rodolphus, when I was still Miss Bellatrix Black. He walked up to me with his usual cold expression, prompting me to think that what he had on his mind was completely different. His leather shoes announced each step he took loudly. He stopped slightly less than a metre from the armchair I was in.

"Lucius is dead," he said. It was just as much of a statement as it was a question. Perhaps Snape too, like me, wanted the truth to be a lie. I looked back down at the book I was reading. After finishing the last two lines of the page I was at, I closed it sharply.

"Hypothermia," I said, glancing up at him. He didn't understand.

"He froze to death," I expounded. Snape looked at me with an expression of disbelief.

"Wizards don't freeze to death," he growled, "and skilled wizards like Lucius Malfoy can prevent themselves from becoming cold enough even to shiver." He thought I was lying.

"They can, on purpose," I said, placing the book I'd been reading on the ornate table by my side table and standing up to leave. I'd taken two steps when the book came flying at me, narrowly missing my left ear by two inches. I turned around sharply to find Snape pointing a thin finger at me.

"Don't lie to me, Bellatrix," he said, voice dripping with grief and anger. It happened in a split second. I pulled out my wand and yelled _Stupefy_. He fell to the floor, stiff as a board. I bent over him and slid his wand out of his robe.

"You just love making things hard for me, don't you Severus?" I told him, "Now you're petrified, on the floor, defenceless. You don't have your wand, and to top it all off, you can't say a fucking word either."

Snape's eyes followed my every move as I knelt down beside him. His hair lay in a mess. Sliding one of my knees onto his stomach to make it easier, I brushed several strands off his face while staring into his cold, black eyes. I didn't for see him suddenly sitting upright and I half-fell off of him.

"I don't need my wand or my voice to cast a spell. You should know that by now, shouldn't you, Bella?" he asked, snatching his wand back. I crawled out from under him, my legs coming dangerously close to his groin. He grabbed my hand, jerking me towards him and catching me around the waist as I fell on his chest. I looked up at his face. His hooked nose was about an inch from mine.

"You still don't believe me," I said simply. He turned away.

"Look at me," I cried. His gaze shifted slightly, to the top of my corset. I slid a finger under his chin and lifted his face up. He tightened his hold on me.

"Tell me the truth, Bella," he said. He was sincere.

"He froze to death, Severus. I found him on the way back to the manor this morning."

"Does Narcissa know?"

"No."

"Why won't you tell her?"

"I can't bear to see her upset," I muttered so only he could hear, "Especially in the state she's in. She's so fragile. One small bit of bad news could completely break her."

"Oh. I forgot," Snape replied. He let go of me slowly, pushing me away with his hand on my waist. He knew about what had happened between me and my sister. I'd put it behind me, but he couldn't. He still believed that I was in love with her.

"Bastard," I snarled, standing up. I picked my book of the floor and walked away. He called after me.

"I'll tell her," he said. I froze, but realised that he was right. Narcissa had every right to know, and if it killed her, so be it. The state she was in was worse than death anyway.

"I'll tell her," I replied, walking away from him and out of the room. Ascending the marble steps of what had become my favourite staircase in the house, I walked towards Narcissa's bedroom.

I walked in silently, closing the door behind me. The room was bright but the bed was empty. Narcissa was gone. The cold air from outside made the curtains move. I realised that only one of the windows in the room was open. A frightening thought crept into my mind and I rushed towards the window, looking down. A high laugh from behind me told me that my fears had no basis in reality. I turned to find my sister up, walking towards me. Her face had lost its ghastliness. It had been replaced by a rosy, pinkish glow. She looked younger; adorable enough to kill.

Narcissa walked to the spot beside me and shut the windows.

"It was getting stuffy, so I opened one of them," she explained, still looking out.

"You're better," I stuttered. Narcissa smiled slightly.

"This morning, I felt whatever was ailing me just fade away," she whispered. I looked out of the window, at what she was staring at. It was snowing.

"I haven't been outside in a year," she sighed. It took me a while to register what she was trying to put across.

"What? No, Cissy, stay here. If you get sick again..." I tried telling her, but she didn't listen to me. Instead, she walked to her wardrobe and pulled out a long coat trimmed with black fur. I watched as she put it on and pulled out another one. She walked up to me and instructed me to hold my arms out. I refused and she forced the coat on me.

"Come on, silly," she said, "You're starting to remind me of mother."

Pulling me out of the room and down the stairs, Narcissa turned a blind eye to the servants that openly stared at her. Some of them hadn't seen her in months. Some of them had even come to the conclusion that she was dead. I peered into the room I'd talked to Severus Snape in. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere in the house. Before long, neither was I. I felt Narcissa's grip loosen and then cease to exist altogether as she walked forward into the outdoors. The snow wasn't thick at all, and the snowfall could hardly be considered heavy. It was perfect. At that moment, everything was.

Narcissa stood still in front of me, staring at the great expanse of white before her. The sky seemed to merge with the land into a perfect white. There was no horizon. I went beside her and she put her arms around me.

"Thank you, Bella," she said, "for coming back."

I kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll always come back for you, Cissy, " I replied. She hugged me closer, burying her face into the crook of my shoulder. I rubbed her back slowly. We stayed like that for a moment until I thought I saw an all-too familiar black cloak at the corner of my eye and remember what I had to do.

"Cissy," I began. She didn't answer.

"Cissy, Lucius is dead," I said. Narcissa didn't say a word. I pulled back slightly. She felt limp, cold. Dead.

"Cissy!" I cried, trying to hold her up. I couldn't. I couldn't keep her from falling. I hunched over her form in the snow, telling her to hold on. Then I went back to the manor.


	5. Chapter 5

I can't tell anyone what it feels like to have someone you love so close to you, but not be there at all. That was how I felt as I sat in a chair beside Narcissa's bed watching her sleep. A servant boy had carried her up earlier in the day after I'd come running into the house calling for someone. He was the first to rush out of the manor to rescue his Mistress Narcissa. He carried her away from the cold and into the house, bringing her up to her bedroom on my orders. I had thanked him coldly, wishing I'd done what he had done instead, and then sent him away. As I watch my sister sleeping, I began to hover in that small space between sleeping and being awake. I'd be watching Narcissa sleep and then Lucius would come bursting through the doors and I'd wake up, sweating. Then I began lucid dreaming of past occurrences.

Narcissa and I would be in her study, poring over books. We'd be making healing potions for the other Death Eaters, the ones who had suffered in the battle for the greater good. I'd be dicing eye of newt and she'd be killing scarab beetles. I'd try to add the diced eyeball the same time she tried to add her powdered beetles. The back of our hands would brush each another's at the mouth of the cauldron and she'd turn away, hiding a small smile and pretending not to feel anything. I would get so worked up I'd just throw everything down on the table and leave the room. I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd just grabbed that hand dusted with powdered beetles and used it to pull her towards me, kissing her full on the lips. But I didn't. I was too much of a coward.

That realisation woke me up. It was the fifth or sixth time I'd woken up that night after about 5 minutes of sleep. I gave up on sleep altogether and straightened up, having been slumped over in the chair as I slept. It made my spine hurt. I turned my head slightly to look at her lying perfectly still under the covers. She could have been dead. I'd changed her clothes earlier, one of the hardest things I'd ever done. I'd have died, had the Cruciatus curse put on me for weeks on end. Anything to save me the sight of her ribs through her skin and her elbows and knees which lay at angles. My Narcissa was a bare skeleton.

I imagined her stirring, finally gaining consciousess. I pictured myself as the first thing she would see when she woke up. It all seemed so wrong. Lucius should have been in my place, or Draco. But Draco was in his room, having cried himself to sleep. I should have gone and comforted him but I couldn't leave my sister for her son, my nephew, my godson at one point in our lives. I felt horrible for that. I stood up from my chair and walked towards the bedroom door, casting one last glance at Narcissa before I left, hoping I'd see her stirring. She didn't and I closed the door behind me. As I walked down the hallway to Draco's room, I realised that it was his room that had once been our study, the place where Narcissa and I spent a large part of our happier days together. Draco's door came into sight. It was left ajar. I pushed it slightly and it opened wide enough for me to see him lying on the bed. He was facing away. I stepped into the room.

The room had the classic Malfoy touch to it. Dark-green curtains were pulled aside to expose the snowy horizon outside but the ornate glass windows were closed. There was a blue fire crackling in the fireplace, no doubt conjured up by one of the servants. There were blue fires like that all over Malfor Manor. I silently made my way to Draco's bed and sat down at the edge of it. Draco turned to me. His eyes were red. I knew that for a moment, he'd thought that I was his mother. He might even have hoped for that. But I wasn't and he turned away, clearly disappointed. I rested one hand on his head and stroked his blonde hair gently like I knew Narcissa would have done.

"Aunt Bella, where's father?" he asked.

"He'll always be with you no matter where he is," I said simply. I couldn't tell him Lucius was dead. He wouldn't understand. He was just a little boy.

"Will he come back home?" he asked, lying on his back so he could look up at me. I took my hand away and put it on my lap instead, staring down at how weathered it had become. I had absolutely no clue what to say to him, but I decided that the best way to answer his question would be to avoid it altogether.

"I don't know," I replied.

"What about Mother?" he asked. I winced slightly and I knew he'd noticed. The snow outside reflected the moonlight into the room, making it reasonably bright for this time of night. Draco's questions were getting more difficult with each passing one.

"Your mother is resting, Draco. She's sick," I said in a soft voice. Draco nodded, turning away. He didn't believe me. I couldn't blame him. I didn't believe myself either. Everyone kept telling me that Narcissa was sick, that she had some sort of exotic illness. But I knew for a fact that no illness could turn her into the pathetic wreck she had become. If it could, it would have killed her by then. I wasn't with her when she first fell ill, but one person who had been was lying in front of me right now.

"Draco, tell me what you remember, the last time your mother was well," I said. He turned to me after I'd asked the question and I caught a flash of terror in his father's grey eyes.


End file.
